


Dinner time

by Plugs



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Cannibalism, Drugs, Gen, Gore, M/M, Vivisection, hook/Scrapper is hinted more than anything, mentioned but it’s enough to tag imo, this is gross and nasty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 04:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plugs/pseuds/Plugs
Summary: Hook and Scrapper planned a lovely dinner, but unfortunatly the meal isn’t great quality, luckily, they’ve got a back up dish





	Dinner time

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in tags, this gets gross and nasty. I’ll add more as I didn’t get to much actual cannibalism before I came to a stop.

“Hmn, this tastes a bit off” Hook grumbled.

“Might need more copper?” Scrapper suggested, pulling out the jar.

“No” Hook sighed, sniffing disdainfully at the energon, “this is contaminated, the source is impure”

“I did hear rumours about him taking syk” Scrapper replied, looking at his cube, “and syk does smell rather appalling-“

“-Also a class B illegal drug back on cybertron” Hook cut in, “taints the energon” Hook noticed the concern in Scrappers visor and the servo touching his shoulder, “Such a small dose will have no effect on me, don’t fear”

Scrapper let out an exvent, “I supposed dinner is cancelled”, such a pity, it had been hard to arrange a time when neither of them had work, and gestalt members likely to ruin their relaxing evening were otherwise occupied.

“Well” Hook said, looking over the table, “I was planning to save this for a special occasion, but I think we need a treat after this disappointment”

 

The mech on the table flicked him optics between the two constructicons, part of Beachcomber wanted to believe he’d just be let go, the line in his arm ached and his meta was fading in and out from the energon loss. He’d at first though they’d wanted to torture him—for the fun of it, he’d got no useful information—but then he’d seen the empty cubes, the square solid fuel trays, fuelling cutlery and he’d realised the rumours were much worse than everyone thought.

After what happened to Prime, everyone knew Hook liked cutting up mechs. No one thought he was carving them up for dinner.

 

“I’ll give him to Vortex and Scavenger to play with” Beachcombers optic band flashed weakly, his digits spasmed.

“So long as Scavenger washes after, he tracked energon in last time” Hook replied,

Scrapper nodded “I’ll get Bonecrusher to drag him to he washracks”

 

—-

Bluestreak was relived when he saw Beachcomber in the doorway of the cell, until the minibot collapsed. He scrambled back when Hook grabbed for him, he’d heard about the constructicon medic.

“This will be a lot less unpleasant if you cooperate” Hooks voice was loud in the silence of the cell, “Might even turn your vocaliser back on if you behave”

Bluestreak stood in the middle of the cell, helm down, servos limp by his sides, “Good mech” Hook said with a note of approval, walking closer—

—“Ack!”

Hook spluttered, holding his faceplate. His rage shaking servos lowered revealing energon slowly dripping down his lip plates from his nose. Bluestreak laughed silently, manically, until the sharp jab in his side and his vision darkened.

 

—

 

“Didn’t think he had that kind of temperament”

“Well he did, right little slagger”

Bluestreaks optics flickered back online, his limbs felt heavy and trying to move the, revealed he could only twitch his digits. His wings were numb, and one of them itched infuriatingly.

“Well at least he’s clean—removing the door wings was a hassle, don’t know how we could have gotten him on the table”

He realised that Hook was leaning over him now, a laser scalpel in servo. He felt strangely exposed, and to his horror, his chest plates were open— there was a pressure on his abdomen that slowly descended.

Bluestreak thought the ghost sensation of his doorwings was bad, but feeling layers of his protoform pulled back and pinned against the table to expose his organs was many times worse.

The lack of pain somehow made it more sickening.

“Can we save those for later? Be nice fried with morning energon”

“I suppose”

Bluestreak felt a servo in his abdominals, and a horrible tugging sensation, he could hear the scalpel cutting something loose. And then he felt an emptiness as he heard a squelch-

“I’ll just put those in the cooling unit—you mind tapping some energon off? Dreadfully parched”

“Sure” Scrapper replied, Bluestreak tried to scream as he felt something sharp enter his arm, “you know, you were very rude to Hook, he was considering giving you back to the Autobots after” Scrapper tapped a digit against his nose, “very likely you’d bleed out before they could do anything, but you’d have had a chance”

There was a crunch and Bluestreaks optics leaked, he tasted energon in his mouth.

“You nearly ruined our evening, I’m going to turn what’s left of you into a nice desk” Scrappers optics blazed “leave it for that stick in the aft second in command to find”

He heard heavy steps.

“Scrapper, you’ve inserted the line correctly, and I’m very impressed but—“

Bluestreak felt a rushing sensation in his arm and fogginess in his processor.

“Here, sorry, got a bit distracted”

He was certain he couldn’t expel fuel paralysed like this, but watching Hook gulp down his blood energon made him queasy enough to feel like it.

“Primus, you’ve got to try this Scrapper”

“Why?”

“Just—come here”

Bluestreak had never seen Scrapper without his mask, he was almost disappointed to see a normal lower faceplate-if a little older looking than he expected. Silent laughs bubbled up in his intake as energon filled it, he was being slowly fragging eaten alive and he was curious what was behind a cons face mask.

“It’s nice”

“What?!” Hook said taking the cube off Scrapper, “This is delectable, ‘nice’ doesn’t cover it”

“Well individual tastes and all that, anyway, can we get to the meal?- I’m starving”.

 

 

 


End file.
